Coram Deo Podcasts

Proven Formulas

Reel Faith

May 26, 2010

From the start, there’s been a huge concern on whether or
not LOST would be able to adequately answer all of the questions it raised.
But I think the producers were pretty upfront in stating that they weren’t
going to answer all of those questions. If you listen to the commentaries on
the DVDs or read their comments as the series moved along (especially when they
had an end date in view), they were fairly explicit in stating that the series
was more about the characters than the mysteries. The island and all its
history, the time travel stuff were all a means to engaging the characters and
the bigger questions of life like forgiveness, fate, free will, redemption,
etc. To my mind, this is very analogous to the Twilight Zone wherein the Twilight Zone is
never explained but serves a backdrop for some very intriguing studies of the
human condition. Think of LOST as an on-going Twilight Zone episode and maybe
its resolution is more satisfying.

Did the show have its flaws? Absolutely. You can’t mention
Nicki and Paulo or Jack’s tattoo story without grimacing. Was the ending trite
and universalist? I don’t think so. Say what you will about the stained glass
in the background with all the symbols of varying faiths. All I know is that
they ended up in a church and that there were two lingering shots of Jesus with his
arms stretched out leading into that church. I never expected them to say “It
really is all about Jesus!” but I think they pointed in that direction way more
than most non-TBN television.

For me, LOST functioned as a work of art. A great work of
art leaves things open to interpretation, poses questions that go unanswered,
creates patterns that are maybe meaningful. In the end, art isn’t about
answering questions — it’s about the journey, about the movement from one perspective
to another. It’s about creating something intriguing, multi-layered and beautiful.
In that sense, LOST provided answers even while it asked more questions.

I was content with the "big" answers to the big
questions — resolutions provided through a story of epic adventure, tragic
consequences, heartfelt and poignant moments of humor and grace, and,
ultimately, a redemptive ending. LOST thrilled me, intrigued me, surprised me
and touched me. As a narrative it tapped into the simple, profound truths of
great works of literature like Our Town
and The Lord of the Flies. It
conclusion reaffirmed what the story had been underscoring all along: what
happens matters, death is real, faith and science are not opposed to each
other, fate and free will are more connected than we realize and than living
together is always better than dying alone. The title of the show alone has
always referred as much to the characters’ souls as it has their location.

Lost was a like a televised Rorshach test--where you
provided the interpretation. And yet, LOST was a show that could not be watched
alone—it brought people together into meaningful conversation. LOST dared to
explore questions and themes that are way bigger and more important than who’s
going to win the next reality TV show and who do you love to hate more in this
season of The Apprentice. I remain grateful for this thoughtful, ambiguous and
fascinating show that made me think and wonder. It is a formula for television
that is not easily replicated and won’t be for a long time...

February 07, 2008

With the Oscars only a few weeks away, the marketing blitz is underway so that studios can squeeze every last bit of revenue of the films nominated for Best Picture before the actual awards are handed out. One movie that's generated a healthy amount of buzz and acclaim in the film adaptation of Ian McEwan's best-selling book "Atonement".

It's being hailed by many as a passionate and moving love story for a new generation. But if I were to characterize this movie, I'd say that it is a story that powerfully and ironically demonstrates why "atonement" is a divine word rather than a human one.

Now I haven't read the novel but the ending of the film (don't worry I won't give anything away!) offers an interesting reflection on the idea of atonement. One of the main characters in the film, who happens to be an writer, suggests that a relationship often exists between the desire for atonement and the aims of an author. This perspective is offered as means of interpreting what we have watched these characters go through. Despite some fine acting and creative film-making, this perspective proves to be a very dissatisfying lens...

Childish envy. Naive assumptions. Buried truths. Unconfessed lies. Shattered lives. And all the consequences that lie in the wake of such things are resolved through the power of a story. Atonement is literally a work of fiction. What has been lost, what was taken is restored through a happy ending that isn't real. One is left with the message that a lie, while painful and destructive in reality, can be healing and redemptive in a novel. Which begs the question, if this is the best we can do as people, what hope is there, really?

Thankfully, the meaning of atonement is a matter of divine revelation and not human invention. Forgiveness is not achieved through a work of fiction, it is through the work of the cross. Healing comes not by means of the sacrifice of truth but by way of the sacrifice of love. Redemption is not borne of the whimsical caricature of a postcard, it becomes incarnated in the person of God borne of human flesh.

Atonement is not human possibility, it is a divine gift. And it is a word informed by the one who was and is the very Word of God. He is the true author of atonement, the only one who can afford its meaning and its benefits, because he is the one who both wrote and lived out the story of our humanity. The one who didn't change the ending but died because of it. The one who is able to turn an ending into eternity, to resurrect the story rather than invent a new one. Thanks be to God!

April 20, 2007

I love the medium of film. Movies captured me from an early
age. The integration of word and image. The ability for multi-layered
storytelling through an actor's expression, the focus of the camera lens and
the voice of the soundtrack. I willingly surrendered many a week's worth of
allowance and tips from my paper route for the opportunity to be transported
into another world, to see life from a different vantage point, to be immersed
in the imagination and power of narrative--all in the darkened communal experience
of a theater. It is an experience that I still relish and find great joy in
partaking.

I recently began a ministry experience here at John Knox
that I started back at my former church in Southern California called:
Reel Faith: Faith and Film in Dialogue. Once a month on a Friday evening, we'd
gather to watch a preselected film and then afterwards we'd discuss the movie.
My intention with Reel Faith was two-fold: to learn to embrace and appreciate
film as an artform on its own terms and to consider the narrative of a
particular film in terms of the gospel. What are the convergent and divergent
points between God's grand narrative and the story within a specific movie?

This past month we screened and discussed last summer's
comedy, "Nacho Libre." It's a quirky and slapstick film with a big
heart and I think, even bigger ideas underneath the laughter. Here's a sampling
of some of the conversation and insights from our discussion:

Nacho Libre offers a picture of a man wrestling with God’s
call on his life. It has been Nacho’s dream as a boy to pursue life as a
wrestler. Note the scene of Nacho as a small boy with a drawing in his bible of
the uniform he hopes to someday wear. The question that haunts Nacho throughout
the story is, how can I free myself from the mundane tasks I’m now doing to
become what God truly wants me to be?

And yet Nacho also feels a call by God to serve at the
monastery. Part of the impetus for Nacho's dabbling in the world of freestyle
wrestling emerges from his desire to improve conditions at the orphanage
(better food, a bus for trips, etc.) His heart for the poor is also evidenced
as he gives much of his wrestling earnings and possessions to the needy.
Despite his attraction to Sister Encarnacion, Nacho does not succumb to the temptation
to forsake the monastic life. But Nacho’s faith community believes that
wrestling is ungodly and that the heroes of wrestling often serve as false
idols. Thus a second question emerges for Nacho, does God call a person to walk
on paths that are in conflict with each other; his call as monk and as a
wrestler? Is it okay to wrestle the champion Ramses for the sake of the orphans?

As Nacho’s journey progresses, another obstacle to his
perceived call becomes apparent: he lacks any noteable talent as a wrestler.
Nacho’s reaction to his perceived failure is first to pursue quick fixes (a
better outfit, “eagle powers,” a professional classification) and then to blame
his atheist partner (he blames Esqueleto’s lack of faith for their failure!) en
route to laying the responsibility for his troubles at God’s feet. The
evolution of Nacho’s response to the obstacles in his life is all too familiar,
and it begs the question: If I find that I’m lousy at what I think God wants me
to be, can I blame God for it?

Throughout the film, it appears that God and Nacho have
different plans for Nacho’s life. For much of the film, they do not seem to be
in synch with each other. And yet, God’s will moves forward and Nacho is drawn
closer to God through the journey. Yes, Nacho keeps on losing, but the loser’s
share of the purse helps him buy better food for the orphanage anyway. He gains
more in losing than he did prior to following God’s call on his life. Nacho
often misses what God is doing and how God is working through what he perceives
as failure. Esqueleto, the atheist, ultimately leads Nacho back to God through
prayer. God often speaks and works through the persons we least expect—God
often breaks through the boxes that we form around him.

All of Nacho’s efforts to define and fulfill his destiny
take him away from God but God never moves away from Nacho. Towards the end of
the film, Nacho claims that God is now on his side and that he will win the
match. But it takes a bit of supernatural intervention (through God’s working
through the heart of Esqueleto) that humbles Nacho and provides the opportunity
for him to reach the championship bout. Sometimes he misses the best of what
God has to offer but he never falls completely outside of God’s grace. God
brings his home. God’s call on Nacho’s life continues to be fulfilled. And so
it is for us all.